


Wake up, mom

by Shantae



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: Explanation for canon, fir is like... 8? maybe 10-11? no one knows the fe7-fe6 timeline, we all know who the warning is about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shantae/pseuds/Shantae
Summary: Please





	

**Author's Note:**

> i love fir and her family so much i cannot shut up about them. please talk to me about karel

“Mother…?”

Fir looked at her mother who was laying on her back in the bed, unmoving. She suddenly felt very unwell in the afternoon, and thus decided to lay down for a bit to get some rest. Fir was standing next to the bed, deep in thought. She didn't want to disturb her mother by waking her up, but father had made dinner and she didn't want her mother to miss dinner, either. Whatever it was she that was going to do, she had to decide fast. Like Fir herself, her father did not like waiting for his food, especially not when it was already done and ready to be gulped down.

Karla had suddenly fallen ill a month ago. Bartre blamed the cold weather in Ostia, but Karla had laughed at that, weakly, saying that it would take more than just cold weather to make her ill and keep her ‘under the weather’. The joke, as bad as it was, had made her father laugh despite the situation, a hearty laugh that made his entire body rumble, and Fir couldn't help but giggle.

But despite her positivity and puns Karla’s condition got gradually worse. She had been sparring with Fir only about 3 weeks ago, yet now she barely had the energy to go outside. She spent most of the days sleeping or listening to Fir’s stories, who told her mother everything she had done that day, hoping to cheer her up. Karla would always listen to her daughter, giving advice where needed and laughing where appropriate. Sometimes, when she had enough energy, her mother would tell Fir about her own past, like how she met her father. Fir must've heard the story a thousand times, but she never got tired of it, finding it to be the most romantic story she ever heard.

Uncle Karel had visited two weeks after Karla had gotten ill. Fir hadn't seen him before, but when she saw his tired yet kind eyes she immediately knew she could trust him. He and her mother had talked a lot that afternoon, in a language Fir couldn't understand, but mother seemed very happy after that so Fir was happy too. What she did find odd, however, was that her father had immediately left the house to get food after uncle Karel had arrived, and didn't show up until he had left. She didn't ask, though. Fir knew when not to press.

Little Fir had hope. Her mother's condition was not that great, but this was the sister of the Sword Saint. Surely she wouldn't be felled by an illness. Fir didn't think her mother would allow it. So even when she heard her father and the doctor worriedly speak to each other in hushed voices when they thought Fir was out of earshot, she remained positive.

So, wanting her mother to recover soon, she decided to wake her up for dinner. After all, in order to get better you needed to eat well. Fir wouldn't let her mother skip any meals.

“Mom, wake up~!”

She didn't want to shake her mother awake, having heard the stories from her dad. Apparently, Karla’s instincts are so good that if you try to touch her in her sleep, she'll be on top of you and have a knife at your throat in less than two seconds. Her father had experienced this first hand, and Fir wasn't exactly excited to find out about this herself.

But when her mother didn't respond to her voice, she didn't exactly have much of a choice. Determined to wake her up, Fir put a hand on her mother's shoulder, only to flinch away immediately.

Her mother… was cold. Unnaturally so. These past days, she had felt very hot to the touch, which made it seem even more out of place. Not only that, but she was laying under a very thick blanket, too. Shocked, Fir looked at her mother's face.

Her head was laying on a pillow, hair spread out like a fan. Her face was almost as pale as the pillow, and she had huge dark bags under her eyes, something Fir was sure she hadn't seen her mother with before. Her lips were a purplish, almost blue color, and they were curled up in a small smile. She looked peaceful.

Mom must be cold, Fir thought. That must be it. She had to wake her up and bring her to the fireplace to warm up.

“Mom? Wake up, please.”

She took her mother by her shoulder again and tried to shake her awake as gentle as possible. She felt no resistance, no flinching, nothing. Aside from being cold, there was something else odd about her mother. Fir frowned. And then she realised.

She was completely still.

Her mother wasn't moving. There was no rising in her chest, no fluttering of her eyelids, no movement in her throat. Fir couldn't hear the familiar beat in her heart. How could that be? Surely this couldn't be because of the illness. Her father had told her once that the beating of someone's heart was very important, and that it was bad news if it stopped. Fir didn't know what that ‘bad news’ was, but she was sure that it couldn't happen to her mom.

So, it had to be something else. Maybe mom was pulling a prank?

No, that couldn't be it. Mom liked to make jokes, but she didn't do pranks, especially not mean ones. Her mother was too nice for that.

Or perhaps she was so tired that her heart stopped beating to reserve energy? Fir was still young and didn't know anything about health or how her body worked, but it sounded plausible. That was probably also why her mom felt so cold to the touch; to spare much needed energy. Yes. That had to be it.

Deep in thought about whether or not she should wake her mother up, she apparently really needed her energy after all, she didn't hear her father yelling her name and asking concerned (and slightly pissed off) why she took so long. His stomping on the stairs shook her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see her father standing in the doorway, face gradually paling.

“Dad, I don't think it's a good idea to wake mom up for dinner, she seems very tired.”

Bartre didn't say anything. He just stood there in the doorway, still looking at Karla. He looked… defeated. Were those tears welling up?

“Hey, don't worry, dad. Mom will definitely eat the food you made once she wakes up. She just really needs to rest now.” Fir smiled at her father, but he just shook his head, tears now rolling down his face.

“No…” His voice sounded soft, weak. “No, Fir. Mom won't wake up. Not this time.”

What? What could he mean with that? Shocked, she looked at her mom's face. Fir didn't think it was possible, but it looked even paler. However, she still had a smile on her face, so everything had to be okay, right?

She wanted mom to wake up and ask her about her day. This was getting scary.

No. Fir shook her head. Mom would wake up. She was the Sword Princess, the sister of the Sword Saint, and now, the Queen of Swords. But above all, she was Fir’s mother. And Fir knew that her mom could do anything. So she would wake up.

Her mother would wake up.

...Right?


End file.
